Hopeless

The budget bill that has been passed on to the stooges in the Senate by the hoes in the House has a number of noxious provisions that are contraindicated to the fiscal and sociopolitical health of the American people.  One which sent me into a rage last night goes something like this: the least productive, least effective, least responsive group of parasites in this country today – that would be the 113^th Congress – has taken it as their privilege to legislate a cut in the private retirement benefits of millions of people who worked hard every day of their life.  Rather than saying that what they are doing is serving the likes of UPS and others with whom they have a relationship closely resembling that of a high priced hooker to a regular John, they persist in telling the country that they are saving the retirement fund of all those workers.  Yes indeed, these creatures are always saving something.  They are in fact saviors like the God whose teachings they have bastardized and whose memory they have peddled by the ounce for votes and campaign money.  

Let us not forget that this legalized theft is largely the work product of the cynical, money grubbing, false prophets that have been handed this country on a silver platter by 36% of the electorate while most of the rest stayed home.  This is the lowest turnout in over 70 years.  Can you beat that for stupid?  

When I was finally able to think about sleep around 3 a.m., I lay down with a crushing headache.  Anyone who suffers from hypertension knows what I am talking about.  I was taught to call it a pressure headache.  Unable to raise my head off the pillow or even close my eyes for some time, I began to think about what it is that anyone owes such a nation.  How much can be done for people who would stand in the full light of day and cut their own throats with malice of forethought?

I am a Pagan.  I don’t view the concept of sacrifice in the same way as a Christian.  To me to sacrifice is to sanctify or make sacred in the eyes of the Goddess.  Pissing away one’s time, happiness and health in the service of people too thick or foolish to sever themselves is, therefore, sacrilege.  This is a hard saying, I suppose.  Nonetheless, it is how I have come to feel.  

In point of fact, I have never felt as disillusioned and disheartened save when Bobby Kennedy was shot to death; died for our sins if you will.  For twenty-six hours from the instant of his mortal wounding until the moment he breathed his last, time seemed to stand still.  When the tick-tick-tick of the seconds began again just after 10 a.m. MST something was missing, gone, never to return.  For me it was a brightly colored thread in the rich tapestry of hope, a belief in the goodness of the world.  I was seventeen.

Tonight I am sixty five, Bobby is gone near fifty years, and my hope has worn through.  The men and women who will be impacted by this legislative emesis of a budget bill will find themselves hurting.  All retirees will have yet more evidence that pensions and earned benefits may be lost in the darkness of the next two years as politicians insulated from their electorate by money sell their soul to the devil.  To those who voted for these Republican scoundrels I say, you reap what you sow.  To those who didn't vote at all I say, you reap what you didn't sow.  To everyone else, in the words of the great Bette Davis, incomparable star and committed Liberal, “fasten your seatbelts it is going to be a bumpy night.”